


kairosclerosis

by celestialfics



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Living Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9007819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialfics/pseuds/celestialfics
Summary: Life at Viktor’s apartment in Russia is different than when Yuuri and Viktor had stayed together at Yuuri’s family home in Japan, but it’s a good kind of different.





	

**Author's Note:**

> kairosclerosis - n. the moment you realize that you're currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it's little more than an aftertaste

There’s a sudden soft, cold sensation at the base of Yuuri’s neck as he lounges on Viktor’s couch, but he doesn’t flinch. Viktor’s hands are cold, it’s a fact of nature that Yuuri’s become well acquainted with. It’s just to Yuuri’s misfortune that Viktor has decided to make it a habit to press his hands against Yuuri’s skin, warming them up whenever he gets the chance.

“You’re my space heater, Yuuri,” he says from where he stands behind the couch, his voice dripping slowly and sweetly as it does.

“I’m your fiancé,” Yuuri retorts, his eyes flickering up from his phone screen as he reaches back and takes Viktor’s cold hand from where it’s been pressed cruelly to the back of his neck. He holds it in his own hand, the warmth from his seeping into Viktor’s, though the ring on Viktor’s finger remains colder than his skin against Yuuri’s.

Viktor doesn’t respond; his lips pull into a closed smile and he squeezes Yuuri’s hand before he pulls away, walking back towards the kitchen. “Do you want anything for breakfast?”

“You’re making breakfast?” Yuuri asks in response, craning his neck to look back at Viktor in the kitchen. He begins to sit up, but Viktor protests.

“ _I’m_ making breakfast,” he says, tacking on, “So, relax.”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow, sinking back into the couch. Makkachin quietly sleeps at his feet.

Life at Viktor’s apartment in Russia is different than when Yuuri and Viktor had stayed together at Yuuri’s family home in Japan, but it’s a good kind of different. It’s different that no one else lives with them, and in that respect it’s similar to when Yuuri roomed with Phichit in Detroit. But it’s far different from that, too.

There’s always a soft tone of love hanging in the air here at Viktor’s apartment. There are hello kisses, goodbye kisses, goodnight kisses, just-because kisses. There are tight embraces after long days and throwing popcorn into each other’s mouths as they don’t watch the movie they’d set out to watch. There’s sharing clothes and cooking for each other and talking without worrying that anyone uninvited is listening in.

And so, as Makkachin wakes only slightly to lazily lick at Yuuri’s ankle and Yuuri can hear Viktor busily humming to a song Yuuri doesn’t recognize in the kitchen, he smiles to himself, pressing his hand down against his chest to capture the swelling feeling. His life has turned so unreal and unexpected as of late but he cherishes this all the same.

“Something on your mind?” Viktor asks as he walks over a few minutes later, holding one plate in each hand. His hair sticks up in the back; he must have slept strangely on it and not noticed so yet. (Yuuri loves it.)

“Mm,” Yuuri hums, sitting up and moving his legs to cross under him so that Viktor can sit on the couch between he and Makkachin. He takes one of the plates from Viktor’s hands, setting it down on his lap. His glasses slide slightly down the bridge of his nose, but he leaves them be. “Just thinking about us.”

“Good things,” Viktor prods with a light smile, and then forces a pout. “or bad?”

“ _Good_ , Viktor,” Yuuri grins down at his plate, “Definitely good.”

“I don’t suppose you want to share.” Viktor cocks his head and after he speaks, he shovels some food into his mouth.

“Hm,” Yuuri contemplates, “Sure.”

Viktor blinks. “Really?” There’s a piece of egg on his lip, and Yuuri’s eyes train on it until Viktor’s tongue flicks out and captures it.

“Yeah, sure,” Yuuri repeats, and his gaze flickers down to the golden ring on Viktor’s hand that holds his fork. “I was just thinking about how it’s different here. In a good way.”

Viktor only looks at him curiously, prompting him to continue.

“Being alone with you so much is nice,” he admits, a blush just barely dusting his cheeks. It’s too embarrassing to admit that he feels like love always hangs in the air here, so he keeps that part to himself. Maybe Viktor can read it off of the flush that paints his face.

The corners of Viktor’s mouth quirk up, and he sets his fork down to reach and press his hand against Yuuri’s cheek.

“Cold, Viktor,” Yuuri says habitually, though he presses into the touch.

“I love spending time with you, Yuuri,” Viktor responds, ignoring Yuuri’s comment and dragging his thumb softly under Yuuri’s jaw.

Yuuri’s flush deepens. _I love you_ , he almost wants to say.

“You really should stop, though,” Viktor speaks again after only a few ticks, pulling his hand away from Yuuri’s face and picking up his fork again.

“Stop what?” Yuuri asks with a hiked eyebrow, his lips hanging slightly parted as he watches Viktor take a bite of his food.

“Acting like this. It makes me want to kiss you.”

Yuuri marvels at Viktor’s ability to keep his composure when he says forward and frankly embarrassing things like that. He’d be a blubbering mess on the floor if he attempted to say something of that caliber, he thinks.

“And why can’t you?” Yuuri inquires in response, his eyes flickering between Viktor’s eyes and his lips. Viktor’s attention still remains on his food.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” Viktor states plainly as his gaze flickers up to Yuuri, and Yuuri laughs before taking a bite of his own food, which has thus forth been neglected.

“You’re right, then,” he says after he swallows.

Viktor’s fork clicks against his plate. “I’m right?” he asks.

Yuuri nods, confirming, “You can’t kiss me until you brush your teeth.”

“Oh, you’re so _cruel_ , Yuuri,” Viktor whines playfully, but proceeds to pucker his lips and blow Yuuri a kiss.

“You’re gross.” Yuuri fails to hold a straight face as after a second he breaks into an amused smile.

“I’m not gross,” Viktor’s frowns first, but then his face lights up with a smirkish grin. “I’m your fiancé.”

“You say that as if you can’t be both at the same time,” Yuuri retorts, deadpan, watching as Viktor’s face falls. Laughter bubbles up from his chest at such. “Finish your food and brush your teeth, then we can kiss all you want,” he gives.

“All I want?” Viktor’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you sure about that, Yuuri?”

“ _All_ you want.”   

**Author's Note:**

> happy early birthday vitya ! i hope ur enjoying life being japan's top skater's trophy husband. but really no one can tell me that these idiots wouldn't take every chance to say "i'm your fiance" that they could get. really 
> 
> thanks for reading!!  
> all comments / kudos / bookmarks are, as always, greatly appreciated!  
> <3 <3 <3


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